Rememory
by hjmalfoy
Summary: September following the War, Draco Malfoy finds himself returning to Hogwarts as mandated by the Wizengamot. A new course is required of all students: Group Therapy. Every week, each member of the class must share their memories pertaining to a assigned word and, for Draco, sharing has never been his strong suit, especially not around a bunch of Gryffindors. Draco/Hermione.
1. Day One

A/N: Hello and welcome to "Rememory"! This is my very first fanfic so please give me feedback! I would love to improve in any way possible! Just an FYI, this story takes place the school year following the war and completely disregards the epilogue because I'm not a fan of the Hermione/Ron pairing; I'm a Dramione fan til I die! ENJOY!

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CHAPTER ONE

 **Day One**

"Is there something terribly interesting outside, Mr. Malfoy?"

My eyes lazily shifted from the new stained glass window of the Great Hall to the stern eyes of our guidance counselor. The professor, whose name I did not care to remember, stared me down and cocked an eyebrow, expecting an answer to which I did not give.

She tutted and then continued her discussion on how we needed to open up more to each other, but, most importantly, to her – a neutral party.

She paused her speech to call on someone.

"Pardon me, Professor Franklin, but I am incredibly curious about something." Hermione Granger's voice rang through the air with a hint of malice behind her seemingly polite words, "Why in the name of Merlin would we open up to you, a complete and utter stranger?"

I noticed Professor Franklin (thanks Granger for telling me that) flinch ever-so-slightly at the undertone Granger's voice held.

"The war affected me as well, Ms. Granger."

The snort that emitted from Granger was neither respectful nor lady-like before she retorted, "Oh I'm sure you Americans felt the impact of the war _dreadfully_. You were, what, three-thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean? My word, it must have been _so tough_ for you, huh, Professor Franklin? Meanwhile, everyone in this room was a part of the war. Voldemort tore our lives apart. We constantly lived in fear, no matter which side we were supposedly on. You want to know why? Because Voldemort was hosting a massacre in our own backyards. Then again, I'm sure you experienced the _exact_ same thing, right, Professor?"

There was a collective gasp at the end of Granger's rant as Blaise and I glanced at each other with wide eyes and similar thoughts.

 _What the hell happened to Granger?_

"I think you need to go to the Headmistress' office, Ms. Granger." Professor Franklin found her voice again, but there was a noticeable quiver.

Granger's face exploded into a conceited smirk, "Oh, _Minerva_ and I will have a lovely chat."

She collected her purse off the bench seat, gave She-Weasley a pat on the back, and then strutted out of the hall with her shoulders straightened and chin held high. As she walked away, something struck me as odd. Her skirt was tight, tighter than I had ever seen. It reached mid-thigh and hugged her backside rather nicely, accentuating her round bottom. Her caramel brown hair reached the top of her skirt and it now fell in lovely curls down her back, looking nothing like the bushy hair I'd made fun of since first year. I would say she looked the best she ever had if it weren't for the deep, dark circles under her twinkle-less eyes, not that I'd been staring during supper the night before or anything. Perhaps it was odd because I'd never really taken the time to look at Granger before, aside from the Yule Ball our fourth year.

Another hand dared to raise after the extreme exit by Granger.

"Ms. Weasley," Professor Franklin called.

The red-head flipped through the pamphlet that was handed out at the beginning of the session before stating, "While looking through the syllabus, I noticed that it says we'll be using a Pensieve to view each other's memories, but how are all of us supposed to fit in one little Pensieve?"

Looking grateful for the interaction, Professor Franklin replied, "The other professors and myself have created a new sort of potion that everyone will drink before each memory that will allow them to view the memory that has been inserted into the Pensieve. Thank you for transitioning me into my next point, Ms. Weasley. Every other Monday, I will assign a word with which you will give me a memory. The memories will be due on Wednesday and viewing the memories will take place Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. The week following the memory viewing, we will discuss the memories and have little assignments that go with the word I have chosen. In other words, the class will revolve around one word for two weeks."

"What's the word for this week?" Blaise blurted out, not bothering to raise his hand.

Professor Franklin visibly huffed in annoyance before saying, "This week we're starting out easy. The word will be 'happiness'. You can choose any memory you wish pertaining to the word happiness. Ideally, you would use the memory that you use for your Patronus charm, if you are able to cast it."

 _Happiness?_

Genuinely, I was at a loss. My mind has been so clouded lately with sadness and anger that happiness had not ventured into my thoughts for ages. This was supposed to be an easy one; why not start out with 'dread' or 'remorse' or, better yet, 'self-hatred'? Those would be much more pliable options than damned happiness.

Apparently, my usual stoic facial expression had slipped slightly because a snide Seamus Finnigan commented, "Does poor little Malfoy not have any happy memories with his mommy and daddy Death Eaters?"

Before I could even choose to ignore him, She-Weasley slapped him on the back of the head, "Seamus, shut your bloody mouth."

"Are you defending this piece of trash, Ginny?" He accused, outraged. "What would Harry say?"

Her jaw clenched, her eyes flared, "Harry, in case you have forgotten, is an incredibly compassionate and kind human being who has had to overcome so much in his short life. So, I doubt he would be mad that I was defending Malfoy against your incredibly rude and inconsiderate words which have no place here, especially after we just fought a fucking war to stop prejudice."

Finnigan rolled his eyes and then turned back to the front of the class where Professor Franklin was answering other student's questions. I glanced at She-Weasley to find her giving me an appraising look. Out of thanks, I gave her a stiff nod. She returned a small, quaint smile and then returned her eyes to Professor Franklin.

"What the fuck was that?" Blaise asked, whispering beside me.

I shrugged, just as confused as him, before saying, "I have no bloody clue. She-Weasley has always been pretty cool, you have to admit."

"Cool and hot aren't really the same thing, mate." Blaise snorted before patting my shoulder, "She's dating Potter. You'd think she'd have a vendetta against you, too."

The rest of the class passed rather dully; no other outbursts, no dramatic exits, zilch. When the period ended and everyone was filing out, Professor Franklin reminded us of our memories being due Wednesday and she asked that someone inform Granger, to which She-Weasley volunteered.

Blaise and I took our time to leave the hall, not wanting to be tangled up in the crowd. We both had Advanced Potions next, so we made our way down to the dungeons to Professor Slughorn's room. The class was bound to be small, not many people cared enough about the subject to expand their knowledge.

"Do you think Granger will be here?" I blurted out without thinking. "I mean, do you think she'll be out of McGonagall's office?"

Blaise spared me a sideways glance before saying, "I'm sure she'll be here. McGonagall wouldn't punish her star pupil and Granger would never miss the first day of Potions."

I nodded and didn't meet his gaze before pushing into the classroom ahead of him. The dank room only housed about five people so far and I reckoned not many more would be showing up. Blaise and I took our normal seats in the back that we reserved since first year.

The bell rang just as Granger stormed in and sat in the desk directly in front of Blaise and me. She looked a little flustered, perhaps a little angry, but ultimately the same as this morning. A few moments later, Slughorn appeared from behind his office door and into the classroom.

"Hello hello hello everybody!" He began merrily, "I trust everyone had a fantastic summer."

"Oh yes, just super." Granger huffed under her breath, allowing only Blaise and I to hear.

I scoffed and agreed non-verbally. Did he forget that the Final Battle literally just happened in May and Hogwarts was barely repaired enough for this school year to even take place? Or did he forget that trial after trial after trial was taking place to put Death Eaters and accomplices behind bars?

"Nonetheless," Slughorn continued happily, despite the unimpressed atmosphere, "you lot are the brightest potioneers in this establishment and I am here to make sure all of you pass your O.W.L.S. with flying colors! But first, I would like to know why all of you are taking this class, seeing as how it is not required in any way, shape, or form to graduate?"

He started at the front of the class where most answers were that it looked better to employers if it was on a resume, which was definitely true, but bland. Another answer was wanting to challenge themselves, but those were the only two answers until Granger.

"Miss Granger," Slughorn greeted her with an exuberant grin, "I am just tickled that you are taking my class! Tell me, why haven't your equally interesting friends, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, returned this year?"

Granger's fake smile was so plastic it must have physically pained her to do, "Harry and Ron both decided that they were ready to start their careers and the Auror Department offered them both jobs right after the war."

Slughorn clapped with glee, "And what about you, Miss Granger? Were you not offered the same thing?"

"Actually," Granger said sugar-sweetly, "I was offered the same position, plus several positions throughout the Ministry, but I am not particularly fond of fighting nor am I fond of an office job so I decided to come back to Hogwarts to complete my education."

"And what do you hope to do once leaving Hogwarts?"

"I'm going to become a Healer." She replied, her grin turning slightly more genuine. "I want to help people, sir."

"Oh how magnificent!" Slughorn chortled, "You are quite the young lady, Miss Granger!"

Subliminally, I had to agree with the portly man. Becoming a Healer can be incredibly difficult. The schooling after Hogwarts is horrendous with four extra years, not to mention admittance into the St. Mungo's Healing Academy is about 5%. From there, out of a class of twenty incoming students, only three to four become certified Healers. The others simply become nurses or have to try again the following year.

With a significantly less impressed glance, Slughorn turned his attention to Blaise and I.

"Mr. Malfoy, what do you hope to accomplish after Hogwarts?"

I met his dissatisfied gaze with hardened eyes, "I'm hoping to open a potions business, sir."

A look of surprise crossed his face. He, like so many others, must have assumed I was only back at Hogwarts to complete my probation and then I would flee the country and live off my family's endless amounts of money.

"How curious," Slughorn remarked before looking at Blaise, "and you, Mr. Zabini?"

"I'm going to partner in Draco's potions business, sir."

"Well it is certainly a good thing you both are taking Advanced Potions then." He replied and returned to the front of the classroom to begin his lecture.

As everyone went to grab the supplies from the closet after Slughorn's lesson, I felt Granger's eyes on me. Every time I would try to meet her gaze, she would look away pettily. When I finally caught her eyes and held contact with them, it seemed like neither of us could look away. Her head was quirked to the side and her eyes held confusion. Blaise's irate voice finally broke our gazes.

"Draco, mate, have you stirred this in the past minute at all?"

 _Fuck._

I glanced down at the potion, which was supposed to be a bright yellow color, but instead looked like a charcoal gray.

"No, I haven't." I huffed and ran a frustrated hand through my hair, "Fuck, Blaise, I'm sorry. We're about to flunk our first fucking potion when the big Slug hates us already. Fucking fantastic."

Suddenly, a small, delicate hand touched my shoulder as Granger set a vial full of bright yellow liquid down in front of us.

We looked up at her, bewildered, but all she offered was a small head motion to go turn it in and a quaint smile.

I looked around the room and none of the other students seemed to notice our interaction, being too consumed by their own potions, and Slughorn was behind his desk reading, what looked like, a romance novel.

"What about you, Granger?" Blaise asked with a concerned look. "It's not your fault that Draco here totally mucked up our work!"

"I've always made extra, especially since I usually worked near Harry and Ron, or Neville, who all tend to need a little help from time to time." She shrugged as if it were no big deal.

She turned to go back to her station, but before she could get to far my hand reached out to grab her by the forearm, effectively stopping her.

"Thank you, Granger."

Surprise raced across her face before she replied, "No problem, Malfoy. I'm happy to help."

Blaise grabbed the perfectly brewed potion Granger deposited on our desk and quickly scribbled our names on it, before turning it into the basket.

"What the bloody hell is going on today?" He whispered to me with a quizzical stare.

Equally confused, I responded, "I have no fucking idea."

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A/N: I know pretty much everyone seems a little OC in this chapter, but I feel like the characters _must_ have changed drastically after the war and that obviously wasn't touched upon very much given that the seventh book ends right after the war and then skips to the epilogue. War definitely changes people and I wanted some to change for the better and others for the worse. Message me for any questions/comments/concerns! Have a great day :-)


	2. Day Two

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed! It's very much appreciated! Here's chapter two of _Rememory_!

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CHAPTER TWO

 **Day Two**

 _Happiness. Happiness. Happiness._

The word infested itself into my every thought, yet brought forth no such memory pertaining to it. It seemed like the entirety of my thoughts and memories recently had been borderline miserable. Understandable to a certain extent, seeing as how a blood-crazed monster lived in my house for several months and threatened to kill me and my family if we so much as spoke out of turn.

"Drake," Daphne's voice brought me back to reality, "You've been stabbing that biscuit for a solid five minutes now."

I looked down at my plate to see a mutilated biscuit and a fork clenched in my fist. Sighing, I set the fork down and rested my head on the table.

"What's wrong, love?" Daphne asked sweetly, as she said almost everything. Contrary to popular belief, Daphne Greengrass is arguably the nicest person currently residing in Hogwarts. People don't seem to recognize what a wonderful person she is simply because of the green and silver emblem on her cloaks. I always wondered why I'd never conjured any romantic feelings for her. She's absolutely beautiful, with her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and elegant curves. We'd kissed a few times, mostly at Slytherin parties when we played Spin-the-Bottle or Truth-or-Dare, but neither of us had ever wanted anything more. Part of me felt like she was pining after Blaise, even after he'd broken her heart in fifth year by cheating on her with Tracy Davis.

I looked into her emerald eyes, which shone with concern, "I honestly don't know what memory to use for Franklin's dumbass assignment."

"I don't think it's dumb at all." Theodore Nott, another good friend of mine, retorted. "I mean she's asking us to open up to each other, which is kind of a Gryffindor thing to do, but she's also giving us the easiest assignments ever. Easy assignments mean good grades which means easy last year at Hogwarts."

Daphne's nose scrunched up in annoyance, "Okay, Nott, I don't think that's what we should be getting out of this whole assignment. I think Professor Franklin genuinely wants to help us all cope with what happened in the war," she turned to me, "As for you, Draco, just think about a time before the war when you felt carefree. Better yet, think about your mum. I know how much she means to you."

 _Mother._

I should have thought of that sooner. While our relationship had never been perfect and she was never really the mothering type, she was my rock throughout the war and I loved her dearly.

"Thanks, Daph." I gave her a small grin before patting her hand that rested on the table. "You're the best."

"Don't I know it," She huffed before taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Good morning, my fellow snakes!" Blaise said cheerily before sitting beside Daphne and throwing an arm around her. "How is everyone this absolutely fine morning?"

We all just stared at him blankly, confused at his over-the-top behavior.

"What's got you so bloody filled with sunshine?" Theo asked before shoving a whole biscuit into his mouth.

Blaise's face lit up even more so, "Well, as I was walking up from the dungeons, I may or may not have seen Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan stumbling out of a broom closet, looking completely rumpled and thoroughly shagged!"

"WHAT!"

"Did they see you?" I asked immediately, seeing the limitless blackmail potential.

"Now Drake," Blaise shot me a proud look, "You know I'm much too stealthy for some obnoxious, clumsy ole Gryffindors to spot me."

"Well," I replied, feeling better than I had all morning, "It looks like Finnegan won't be making any more snide comments to me, or else everyone finds out that he's sucking Thomas' dick."

"You all are disgusting!" Daphne glared at us, "So what if they're gay?"

"Daph, love, it's not the fact that they're gay that we're mocking. It's the fact that Finnegan thinks he's tough shit and basically called Draco out in front of everyone yesterday. If he continues, the secret's out of the bag and then everyone knows even though they wanted to keep it a secret." Blaise reasoned with her.

He was right. It had nothing to do with their sexual orientation. It was the mere fact that he wanted to humiliate me, and therefore I would return the favor, if necessary.

"Wait," Theo butted in, "Wasn't Finnegan just bragging about all the girls he shagged over the summer on the train ride? He was surrounded by all the Gryffindorks and he was listing off names and positions."

"Now we know for sure that he's trying to keep this so far under wraps he's fabricating stories to cover it up!" Blaise practically jumped for joy.

"You all are foul." Daphne responded with crossed arms and a disapproving look.

"Watch out," Nott replied with a mouth full of food, "Keep talking like that, Daph, and you'll start to get frizzy hair and a stick up your arse like a certain bucktoothed Gryffindor."

Unintentionally, I flinched slightly. Nothing Theo said was any worse than the things I had called Granger in the past, so why did it offend me to hear him talk like that? I remained silent as Daphne and Theo bantered back and forth, something they were known to do quite often.

"Speak of the devil," Nott declared as Granger walked into the Great Hall with Weaslette by her side. The girls seemed closer than in previous years; they were always together. Granted, in previous years, the dumb-fuck duo of Pothead and Weasel King were constantly flanking Granger asking for homework answers or talking about the next way to break countless rules and still be praised for it.

Blaise broke my internal rant with a bold statement, "I don't know what happened, but Granger got drop-dead gorgeous. So, it looks like your derogatory statement to Daph no longer stands, Theo."

"She's always been attractive," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Why do you think Pansy hated her so much?"

"Probably because she's all Draco would talk about." Blaise laughed, "'Granger's beaten me on another Potions assignment. Father's going to kill me!'"

"'Did you see Granger's hair today? It looked like a bloody tumbleweed!'" Theo tagged along.

"'Why do all the teacher's love Granger so much? I'm just as smart as her, and two-hundred times better looking!'"

"'Blimey, Granger never shuts up! I just wanted to shove my dirty Quidditch socks in her fat mouth!'"

"Okay!" I exclaimed, fed up with their antics. "I get it! I used to talk about Granger a lot. She got under my skin, but I'm over it."

"Mhm, Granger gets under your skin alright." Blaise hinted with a sly look.

I glared at him, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Fourth year." Theo stated.

"Yule Ball." Blaise elaborated.

"Need we say more?" They asked in unison.

"I'm leaving. You're all twats. Have a horrible day." I grabbed my bag and another biscuit from the table and stormed out of the hall to the sound of their laughter.

As I strolled down the corridor to Transfiguration, I reasoned with myself. Of course, Granger had looked somewhat attractive at the Yule Ball; everyone had talked about it and you had to be blind not to see a difference in her appearance. That didn't mean I found her any less repulsive than usual!

Granger aside, I needed to focus on finding a memory for Franklin's class tomorrow. _Happiness_. Daphne was right in leading me toward my mother. Most of my happy thoughts pertained to being with her, especially when I was younger.

"Everything okay, Mr. Malfoy?" Headmistress McGonagall surprised as I almost ran into her.

"Er, yeah, everything's fine, Prof- I mean Headmistress."

"What has you so confused?"

How did she know I was confused?

"I'm just thinking about the assignment for Professor Franklin's class is all. I'm struggling to come up with a topic. No need to worry. I'll come up with something." I tried to walk into the room past her but she placed an aged hand on my shoulder to stop me.

"I know this past year has been incredibly hard on you, Mr. Malfoy." She spoke softly, as to not be overheard by any students walking by, "And I just wanted to say that I look forward to seeing the young man you become without the pressures from your father clouding your judgement."

The old me would have been beyond offended to hear a professor tell me my father was a bad influence, but post-war Draco knew better.

"Thank you, Headmistress. I hope I won't disappoint."

She let me enter the room before muttering quietly, "I don't think you will, Mr. Malfoy. I don't think you will."

I took a seat in the back row of the room, as usual. Just because I knew my shit, didn't mean I had to gloat about it nor did it mean I couldn't sleep in class sometimes, something the last row allowed for on some occasions.

Being at least ten minutes early, I was the only student present. Undoubtedly, Granger would be flitting in soon, she loved to make sure she got the front row; it was the place she had sat for all seven years at Hogwarts. Utilizing the ten minutes I had to myself, I pondered the term _happiness_ once more. Happiness could mean vastly different things to all types of people. Maybe I would have to settle for something that made me happy, but seemed minute to others.

"May I sit here?" The last voice I ever thought to ask such a question asked from beside me.

"Um, why?" I asked quizzically.

Granger let out a short huff exasperatedly, "It's a yes or no question, Malfoy. I can go sit up front if it's a problem."

I don't know what possessed me to say yes, but I like to think it had more to do with my curiosity as to why she asked than anything else.

We sat in silence; our steady breathing was the only noise in the room. As people started milling in, we received confused, surprised looks and glances. Everyone obviously was just as perplexed as I was about the entire situation. So there must not be a new decree that declared War Heroines to mingle with ex-Death Eaters, which happened to be my number one idea as to why Granger decided to sit in the seat directly next to me in a class that housed roughly sixty stools.

"So," I began hesitantly, something I wasn't known to do, especially not around Granger, "Can I ask why you're sitting here now?"

She didn't glance up from her book, instead she simply shrugged her shoulders and continued reading. Obviously, it irritated me and, obviously, she was doing it _to_ irritate me. So instead of letting her goad me, I replied, "Okay, fair enough," and rummaged through my satchel to find my notebook and quill.

That made her look up.

I felt her eyes on me as I situated all of my supplies and turned my attention to McGonagall who had just began her lecture.

"Due to some stressful relationships between the houses, I've decided to pair everyone up with someone not in their house to assimilate inter-house unity! As I call out your names, please find your partner and sit next to them! They will be your partner for the rest of the school year!"

I glanced at Granger who raised a knowing eyebrow at me.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you're always one step ahead of everyone else, should I?" I asked rhetorically.

"Ms. Granger with Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall called out and was surprised to see us already sitting next to one another.

Granger shot the Headmistress a smile before turning her gaze to me, "It was obvious what her plan was. In every class I've had so far, the teachers have been preaching about unity and inter-house relations. I figured they must be getting it drilled into their heads and who is someone that all the professors listen to? The Headmistress, who also happens to know of an incredibly strong dislike two of her star pupils, from different houses, have towards one another."

"I don't dislike you all that strongly, you know." I surprised even myself by saying.

Another raised eyebrow.

"Really?" She scoffed, "That's news to me. I could've sworn you were the one who relentlessly spat the name _mudblood_ at me since the age of twelve, but I could have confused you with another silver-haired ponce."

"Don't call-"

"Is there an issue, Mr. Malfoy? Ms. Granger?" McGonagall's voice broke through our discussion. "Am I interrupting something?"

Before I could apologize and appease her, Granger spoke, "Actually Headmistress, you did interrupt something. Malfoy here was just about to explain to me how he's not a ponce."

A moment of silence filled the classroom before Ginny Weasley's laugh set off a chain reaction of others. McGonagall's face stayed disapproving and she quieted everyone before responding, "I would love for you to tell me more after class, Ms. Granger."

"I would love to tell you more, Headmistress, can't wait!" She replied in a sticky sweet voice with a sarcastic grin. "You can proceed with your lesson now."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes before turning back to the rest of the class and resuming her discussion. My mouth must have been hanging open because Granger reached over and pushed my chin up.

"Don't look so surprised. You aren't the only one who can be a smart ass, Malfoy." She whispered to me as she continued to take down diligent notes.

She was confusing the hell out of me! She most definitely was not the same Hermione Granger I attended all six other school years with, but she still had her academic traits and relatively the same features, so it must be her. The rest of the class period I simply sat there confused and was surprised when McGonagall dismissed everyone.

"Ms. Granger, stay back, remember?" She called as Granger motioned to get up from her chair.

"Of course, Headmistress."

Granger strolled to the front of the classroom with a confident swagger I usually saw in Slytherins. I offered one look back at the pair before exiting the classroom more confused than I'd ever been after a lecture.

Outside the doors, She-Weasley waited, twirling her wand in her hands as a sign of boredom.

Needing answers to soothe my thoughts, I marched up to her and demanded, "Weasley, what the _fuck_ is going on with Granger?"

Startled, she gripped her wand tightly before pointing it at me.

"Relax, Red." I raised my hands in a sign of innocence, "I just want to know what's up with Granger like why she's been mouthing off to Professors."

She-Weasley lowered her wand slightly, but did not put it away, "Hermione's had an incredibly difficult time adjusting since the war and she's dead set on not pretending that nothing's happened. But, personally, I kind of like her new attitude. It makes being around her a lot more interesting, that's for sure."

"It's weird."

She smirked at my simplistic response, "I guess, yeah, it's a little weird, but it's nice to see her embracing what's always been inside her."

I thanked Weasley for offering some sort of explanation before turning to walk down the hall. Just as I strode past the Transfiguration room, Granger exited, bumping right into me causing her to lose her balance slightly. Instinctively, my hands found her waist to steady her.

Her face turned an attractive shade of pink, and without looking at me, she mumbled a thanks before quickly removing herself from my arms and pacing down the hall to an amused Ginny Weasley.

As I stared after them, I couldn't help but think this might be the most interesting year of Hogwarts yet.

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A/N: Obviously Hermione still seems incredibly OOC, but all will be explained in due time. For now, enjoy sassy Hermione and very confused Draco!


	3. Day Three

A/N: Here's the third chapter of "Rememory"! Thank you for the words of encouragement!

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CHAPTER THREE

 **Day Three**

"Alright everyone settle down! Please pick up a vial, a cork, and a label for your happy memories!"

Everyone formed a single-file line in the center of the room to grab the supplies. Blaise stood directly in front of me with Daphne and Theo bantering behind us.

"You found a memory then?" Blaise asked as we ever-so-slowly made our way closer to the front of the line.

"Fucking finally, I know." I replied exasperatedly, "It didn't even come to me until like two o'clock this morning and even then it's pretty much shit."

"I'm sure it's fine, Drake." Daphne, pausing her argument with Theo, reassured with a soothing hand on my shoulder, "Stop being a drama queen."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Theo gasped, "Stop being a drama queen? Never in a thousand years, Daph!"

"Shut the fuck up, Nott." I retorted with a weak shove. "I'm not the one who refuses to sit in the common room because of a tiny spider that likes to hang from the ceiling."

All of us laughed, except Theo, who insisted on defending himself, "Okay but you weren't there that one time if came and landed on my fucking shoulder and almost bit me!"

"Sure, Nott, whatever you say." Daph said in her fake comforting voice as she patted him on the back, "You're the resident drama queen now."

Before he could respond, we were at the front of the line depositing our memories and finding our way back to our seats.

"Is everyone ready?" Professor Franklin asked excitedly, but was only met with a drab silence. Sighing, she added, "Are there any volunteers?"

No one's hand rose and it stayed that way until She-Weasley's hand jutted into the air, "You all are a bunch of pansies. I'll go first, Professor."

She strutted up to the front of the class as Professor Franklin instructed us on what to do.

"Okay on the tables are several vials filled with the potion needed to view the memories from the Pensieve. Each of you should grab one and just take a small sip before each memory in order to see it. Since it is your memory, Ms. Weasley, you just have to touch the Pensieve with me and you'll be transported. Is everyone ready?"

A collective _yes_ filled the room.

"Okay everyone take a sip!"

Slowly, I began to see the room around me fade away and soon we were all sitting at a picnic table in a grassy field behind a raggedy looking, tower of a house. She-Weasley stood in front of us with her back turned, staring at the scene we came to see.

"C'mon Gin!" A much younger looking twin brother of hers cried out towards the house.

"I look ridiculous!" A high-pitched voice called back from the shack. "I'm not doing this!"

"Gin, sweetie, we're the only ones here!" The other twin responded with a chuckle, "We don't care how you look, but you need to make sure you're wearing that so if you fall, you don't get hurt as bad!"

The back door swung open violently. A moppy looking Ginny Weasley, roughly about eight years old, stormed out of the house with tattered Quidditch pads on and a weathered helmet. The gear was obviously too large for her, meaning it was a brother's hand-me-downs, and she was right… she did look quite ridiculous.

Her brothers started to laugh at her and, in retaliation, she marched right up to each of them and kicked them in the shins. They hollered and fell to the ground, making it look like it hurt much more than it did to amuse the little girl.

"Are we going to do this or not?" Little Ginny huffed after a few moments, placing her hands on her hips. "Are you two quite finished? You're being a bunch of babies."

The twins got up slowly, brushing grass off of each other, "Geez Gin, you just beat us up! Give us a second to recover!"

A small laugh erupted from the little girl as she relaxed a little bit.

"Okay, we're going to be using Ron's broom since he's closer to your size." A twin said as he handed little Ginny the old twig, "Don't tell him we're using it, though."

"I'm not dumb, Fred!" She responded sassily before snatching the broom from his hands.

"Of course not," He laughed, "that's why you're going to be the best freakin' chaser Hogwarts has ever seen once we train you!"

Ginny smiled brightly as she looked up at her brothers, "You really think so?"

George, presumably, responded with a gigantic grin, "Without a doubt!"

"Okay," she replied, looking determined, "Let's do this!"

The memory seemed to switch because now the sun was setting and the air was a little chillier.

"Gryffindor with possession! They pass the ball to Ginny Weasley who barrels past two opposing players and, OH MAN she barely missed that Bludger! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor are up 260-0 over the slimy snakes of Slytherin!" The twins are commentating as the little Ginny Weasley zooms across the yard toward a makeshift goal post and throws it through.

Just as she lands beside them, they grab her and toss her in the air as they holler, "GINNY! GINNY! GINNY!"

She's laughing hysterically as they cheer and the three of them are posterchildren for how happy families should look.

Suddenly, the memory begins to fade and we find ourselves back in class.

Ginny Weasley, seventeen-year-old badass currently dating the Chosen One himself, stood before us with tears streaming down her cheeks. Hastily, she moved to wipe them up but more continued to follow. Granger, seeing her friend's distress, quickly rushed to her side and wrapped her arms around her. She was whispering something to her that none of us could hear as she comforted her and asuaged her tears.

After a few moments of awkward silence, She-Weasley calmed herself before Professor Franklin asked, "It's obvious that this was an emotional memory for you. Could you explain to us why it was your favorite happy memory?"

After a few deep breaths, She-Weasley responded, "As you all know, my older brother Fred was killed in the Battle at Hogwarts. Since he's been gone, my family hasn't really been the same. My mum cries all the time and can't be in a room by herself without having a mental breakdown. My brother, George, Fred's twin, hasn't smiled since the end of the war and refuses to open his joke shop back up. So as I was thinking about all the sadness in my life, I realized some of the things that make me incredibly happy: my family, my friends, and Quidditch. This memory features all three. My brothers are my best friends, even when they're being complete foul gits, I still love them and confide in them. So this memory of Fred and George teaching me how to fly and play Chaser properly really made me happy because not only did it involve Quidditch, the best sport on the planet, it also reminded me of how caring and sweet my brothers are."

Granger started the applause and everyone in the class was quick to follow. She-Weasley wiped the excess tears from her cheeks and allowed Granger to guide her back to her seat.

"I'll go next, Professor." Granger announced as she returned Ginny, "If that's all right."

Professor Franklin looked astounded for a moment, probably because Granger was genuinely being polite to her for once, before responding with a wholehearted yes.

She-Weasley gave her a huge smile before pushing her towards the front of the room.

A few moments later, we were teleported inside a beautiful house. The furniture and decorations looked incredibly expensive and it seemed to be very well-kept. An attractive couple, probably in their thirties, sat in the prim living room; the woman was reading a novel, while the man was doing a crossword puzzle. The women was very nice-looking; she had curly blonde hair with light freckles scattered across her cheeks and caramel-colored eyes. The man had dark hair, slicked back, with horn-rimmed glasses and bright blue eyes. They both wore their night clothes.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, startling the pair of them.

"Who in the bloody hell is here at this hour?" The man muttered as he marched to the door.

When he opened it, we were all surprised to see a emerald-cloak clad Professor McGonagall.

"Good evening, Mr. Granger." She began with a small smile. "I'm sorry for the hour, but I wanted to make sure you and your wife were home and not at work. I know your hours can be quite horrendous sometimes."

Mr. Granger, as we now knew, started at her bewilderedly, "Who are you exactly? Do I know you?"

"I'm afraid you do not know me, however, I know your daughter. I wanted to talk to you and your wife about Hermione."

"Hermione?" Assumingly Mrs. Granger asked as she appeared next to her husband. "What about Hermione?"

"Has Hermione ever told you she's done something out of the norm? Unusual or extraordinary, for example?"

The Grangers looked at each other before quickly turning back to McGonagall.

"Come inside, ma'am." Mrs. Granger said and moved out of the way to allow McGonagall entrance.

"Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Mr. Granger asked once again.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall and I teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"I'm sorry, what?!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, "Witchcraft? That's what you think our little Hermione is doing?"

"Magic isn't real, ma'am." Mr. Granger added on, "I think you'd better leave. We aren't interested in what you have to say about Hermione."

McGonagall held up her hand and pulled her wand out of her sleeve. She whispered a spell under her breathe, swished her wand, and suddenly the table was a hippopotamus. A quick switch later and the table returned. The Grangers mouths literally hung open, causing a laugh to run through the crowd of students.

"Is Hermione home?" McGonagall asked sweetly.

"Hermione, love!" Her mother called up the stairs, "Come down here please!"

The sound of rapid footsteps resounded as a tiny Hermione ran down the stairs.

She appeared at the bottom with her hair a mess of curls atop her head in pale pink pajamas. She looked just like she did in first year, birds' nest and all.

"Yes, mum?" She asked breathlessly.

"This is Professor McGonagall and she would like to talk to you about the...things you can do." Her mother spoke somewhat hesitantly.

Hermione's face was scrunched up slightly and she was looking between her parents with uncertainty, "But I thought I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone about it?"

Her father placed his hand on her shoulder and spoke softly, "You can tell Mrs. McGonagall here. Tell her about what happened at school with Sally Parkins."

Hermione's eyes shifted between her loving parents and McGonagall before she spoke softly, "At school, this girl Sally Parkins likes to get a bunch of other girls together and make fun of me. They tell me how ugly my hair is, how big my teeth are, and how no boys will ever like me because my head's always in a book. One day, about a month ago, during recess, I was on the swings and Sally came over to me with her little posse and started berating me in front of everyone in our year. But instead of being sad, I was furious. I wanted her to suffer the way she was making me suffer so I glared at her and suddenly her hair started falling out and…"

She trailed off, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Go on, love, tell her the rest." Granger's mother ushered her on.

Giggling slightly, Granger added on, "And she wet herself in front of everyone. Then a whole swarm of bees chased off her and her followers. Everyone was too busy laughing to think about how all of that happened, but I was completely freaked out. What's wrong with me, ma'am?"

McGonagall looked incredibly amused, but completely assuaged any fear Granger had, "Ms. Granger, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. In fact, you're very, very special! I'm a professor at a school full of magic."

"Magic?!" Granger gasped, eyes wide. "I'm a magician?"

That caused everyone in the class to burst out laughing.

Even McGonagall let out a small chortle, "Not quite a magician, Ms. Granger. You're a witch, which has a much more positive meaning in our world than in yours I'm quite certain."

McGonagall pulled the Hogwarts letter out from a pocket in your cloak and handed it to Granger, who automatically looked at her parents for approval to open it. After a hurried nod from both parents, Granger ripped open the letter.

After a few moments of reading, Granger looked up excitedly, "Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall. I won't let you down."

The vision blurred and we returned to our spots in the Great Hall.

"Go ahead and explain, Ms. Granger." Professor Franklin with a quaint smile.

Granger took a deep breath before stating, "When I was younger, I was bullied all the time. My hair, my teeth, my clothes, everything. I was never the pretty girl, or the popular girl, I was always just the nerd with her head in a book. I tried to pretend that I wasn't affected by hateful words, but it stung and those words played themselves over and over again in my mind. When Professor McGonagall came to my house and told me that there was a whole other world I was apart off, that I could start over in, I was beyond ecstatic. I finally felt like there wasn't something wrong with me, but something special."

The whole time she spoke, she stared directly at me. At first I thought I was imagining it, but towards the end, the eye contact was blatant. I understood completely, though. She was telling me that I had simply continued that never-ending cycle of bullying that she experienced in primary school.

I didn't realize I had done it, but I mouthed "I'm sorry" to her as she stood in front of the entire class. A shocked look crossed her face as she stared at me with raised eyebrows. She quickly shook the expression before turning to the professor.

"Thank you so much for sharing Ms. Granger. Who would like to go next?"

"Malfoy would, Professor." Granger said with a snarky grin, before returning to her seat.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think! Up next...Draco's memory and more!


	4. Day Three Continued

CHAPTER FOUR

 **Day Three Continued**

"Malfoy would, Professor." Granger said with a snarky grin, before returning to her seat.

Surprised, I stared wide-eyes at Granger and then at Professor Franklin.

"That sounds splendid," Professor Franklin ushered me to the front of the room, "Come on up, Mr. Malfoy."

I shot Granger a much needed glare before dragging myself up to the front of the room. Daphne patted me on the back as I walked by.

"Alright, everyone!" Professor Franklin said with a little too much enthusiasm. "Take a sip!"

Suddenly, we were transported to the lush grounds of Malfoy Manor, years before the influence of the Dark Lord would lessen the appeal of the grand mansion. Several people gasped, having never seen anything quite like it in their lives.

A streak of color ran past us, then another, and another, followed by a gleeful laugh. A mud-covered, seven year old version of me was chasing the peacocks my father was oh-so-fond of, laughing as they evaded his grasp.

Right before he finally caught one, my mother opened the front doors of the manor and called out, "Draco, love. Come inside and get cleaned up before your father gets home."

Little me huffed before running to the doors to meet Mother. She placed a hand on his shoulder before he could enter the house.

"You're a mess, Dragon." She laughed, before pulling her wand out, muttering a spell and splashing him with water. Little me gasped as water starting to soak him and his clothes. He started laughing wildly as Mother dodged the splatters of mud coming of his clothes.

I smiled sadly as I took in the happy image of Mother and I, ten years ago, before the mania of having a Dark Lord in our home made us both crazy.

Once the mud was sufficiently off of his clothes, Mother spoke another spell and dried his now-soaked clothes. She ushered him inside and the rest of us were quick to follow. Once everyone was inside, a soft murmur filled the air as everyone appreciated the grandeur of the decor. My mother is an amazing decorator and used her skills to make the Manor fit for royalty. I did not notice Granger was behind me until I heard her speak.

"It looks nothing like when I was here last." She whispered beside me, her voice barely reaching my ears.

I did not responded, too ashamed to look at her face.

I focused on the scene in front of us.

By now, we were in the kitchen, surrounded by house elves.

"Pipsy," Mother spoke politely, "Would you please get Draco a small slice of that pumpkin cake we had for dessert last night? He's been running amuck outside and I don't want him to wake up hungry in the middle of the night."

"Of course, Mistress." Pipsy bowed and quickly retrieved a small sliver of cake for the grinning little me.

"Hurry and eat, Dragon. We don't want your father to know I let you have sweets before bed." She smirked and patted him on the head.

"Where is Father, mum?" He asked with a mouthful of cake. "I thought he didn't work on the weekends."

Mother hesitated for a moment, thinking of a way to word what exactly my father was doing at this hour.

"He's just out with some of his friends who are visiting, love, but he said he'd be home before you went to sleep so he could tuck you in with me." She shot him another motherly smile before grabbing his now empty plate and handing it to Pipsy.

"What do you say, Draco?" Mother raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you Pipsy!" He proclaimed with a sweet grin, "That was delicious!"

"Yous is welcome, young sir!" Pipsy grinned ear to ear as she placed the dish in the sink and began to wash it.

"Come now, Draco. Let's get you all ready for bed."

The group of us were ushered up to young Draco's room which was filled to the brim with Quidditch posters, memorabilia, toys, and action figures. The bedding on his King sized bed was covered in snitches and the Farmouth Falcons logo.

Little Draco jumped into bed and scurried under the covers.

"When will father be home?" He asked excitedly.

Just after he spoke, the familiar _pop_ of Apparition resounded from downstairs. The sound of dragonhide boots on the hardwood floor were heard as Lucius Malfoy bound up the stairs. He strolled into the Little Draco's room with a small grin on his face.

"Good evening, son."

"Hi father! How was your meeting, sir?"

Lucius Malfoy, the renowned Death Eater, sat down beside his small son and placed a hand atop his head.

"What story do you want to read tonight, Dragon?" Narcissa asked as she sat beside her husband. "Let me guess…"

"Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump!" She exclaimed in unison with Little Draco, showing it was a common story read in the Malfoy Household.

Then we watched as the usually stoic Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy reenacted the tale with voices and all, making Little Me laugh with glee. And once the entire story was read and all the laughs were out. We watched as they tucked him in and kissed his forehead before turning off the lights and retreating to their bedroom, hand-in-hand.

The memory dissolved and we returned to the Great Hall once again. I faced a room full of moderately shocked faces and Professor Franklin urged me to give reasoning.

"Believe it or not, my father wasn't always a piece of shit. Thanks." I said quickly, not wanting to prolong this any longer than necessary. As I began to move toward my seat, an irritatingly familiar voice spoke up.

"Oh is that all?"

"Yes, Granger, that is all." I said through clenched teeth. "I have nothing else that I'd like to share."

She raised an eyebrow, challenging me, "You're not going to _heal_ if you don't at least try, Malfoy."

"Sorry we don't all have sickly heartwarming stories like you do, Granger. I don't have anything else to say on the matter."

Again, I attempted to retreat to my seat.

"Oh c'mon you bloody coward!" Granger's voice echoed through the hall. "Everyone else is at least trying and you, of all fucking people, should have some decency in showing us that your _trying_ to change. That's the least you could do for us!"

"Why do I owe you anything?!" I shouted back, my face contorted into a scowl. "Why do I owe any of these fucking people anything?"

"Because your father killed some of my friends!" She retorted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Your father tried to kill me, if you've forgotten, in the Department of Mysteries fifth year. Your father is the reason that Ginny got possessed her first year at Hogwarts and almost bloody died! You and your parents watched as I was tortured by your lunatic of an aunt in your own fucking house! What more do I possibly have to say?!"

"I'm not my father, Granger." I responded stoically, ignoring the rest of her speech.

"Really?" She asked incredulously, "Because it seems to me that you're just like him."

I clenched my jaw so tight I felt my ears pop, "Don't compare me to my father, Granger. You don't know anything about me."

"I don't?" She replied, incredulous, "I've gone to school with you for seven years. You called me a mudblood every chance you got. You tormented me and my friends. You poisoned Ron in an attempt to kill Dumbledore. You were a fucking Death Eat-"

"HE WOULD'VE KILLED MY MOTHER!"

The room silenced. Granger stared at me with wide eyes.

"Who would've killed your mother, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Franklin interjected. "Voldemort?"

I nodded once.

"Do you want to elaborate or would you rather we end this here?" Franklin asked softly. She was next to me now and she spoke quietly enough for only me to hear.

"I feel like this should've ended a while ago." I responded angrily before storming out of the room.

I felt like my lungs were filled with fire. I was infuriated. How dare she come at me like that! She didn't have any idea of the shit I had gone through, especially not with my father!

I ran until I couldn't breathe.

I hadn't realized tears were running down my cheeks until I stopped for a breath outside the library, of all fucking places.

I walked into the back corner of the library and I sat silently as tears ran down my face.

"I shouldn't have come back here." I whispered to myself as I hung my head.

"Yes you should have."

My head whipped up and I stared furiously at the person who spoke.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Granger!" I shouted, forgetting where I was.

Granger shushed me by placing a hand over my mouth, "Would you shut up? Pince is probably charging back here now!"

I continued to glare at her and snatched her hand off my face.

"You realize that I left to get away from you, right? That wasn't an invitation for you to follow." I sneered.

"Yeah, I know." She responded with an eye roll. "I just think maybe we have more in common then I originally thought."

My eyebrow rose in question.

"I'm just saying maybe I was a little too harsh on you back there and I've been judging you without the whole story."

That set me off.

"Yeah, you think so? Maybe you should've fucking thought of that before you attempted to humiliate me in front of everyone back there. Piss off, Granger and don't fucking follow me again."

I brushed past her, ignoring the hurt look on her face.


	5. Day Five

CHAPTER FIVE

 **Day Five**

I skipped the next day of memories. I didn't want to look at Granger's face ever again, and I had been exceptionally effective at accomplishing that goal thus far. Of course, everytime I'm close to accomplishing something, a Gryffindor always fucks it up for me.

"Why weren't you in counseling yesterday, Mr. Malfoy?" Headmistress McGonagall asked me with a cocked eyebrow and a stern look.

I was simply minding my own business, not causing any trouble, at the Slytherin table, eating my supper when McGonagall walked over.

I didn't respond right away and, I don't think I planned to, until Blaise cleared his throat loudly.

"Ask Granger. I'm sure she would love to tell you how she attacked me in class on Wednesday." I responded coldly before returning to my plate of food.

"Well I didn't ask Ms. Granger. I asked you. So, please, enlighten me."

I stared up at the stern face of the Headmistress, wondering why the gods hated me so much.

"He's just been through a lot, Headmistress." Daphne jumped in. "He wasn't feeling well after sharing a really sincere memory with everyone, and then he was bombarded with really personal questions. Besides, he already shared his memory. Why does he have to go if he's recovering? Isn't that the point of counseling, Headmistress, to find a way to cope and move on? That's what Draco was doing by taking a mental health day."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Daphne's seemingly innocent smile.

"Perhaps just let Professor Franklin know next time you decide you need a 'mental health day', Mr. Malfoy." She nodded to all of us and walked away, unsatisfied.

I blew out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, "Thanks, Daph. I owe you."

She gave me an oh-so-Slytherin smirk before replying, "You know, I feel like all three of you boys owe me more favors than you can possibly return in this lifetime."

"Honestly, that's probably true." Blaise laughed before wrapping an arm around Daphne's shoulder and pulling her closer, "What would we do without you, Daph?"

"I don't know, Blaise." She said with a sarcastic glint in her eyes before shoving his arm off of her, "Why don't you go ask Tracy? She seems really interested in our conversation."

We all glanced down the table to find Tracy Davis glaring daggers at Daphne and clutching her fork so hard it might disintegrate.

"What's that about, mate?" Theo asked, completely oblivious to the sudden tension between Daphne and Blaise.

"Nothing," Blaise responded quickly before snatching his bag up and standing, "I'm going to head to class, I'll see you guys there."

He evaded our stares and rushed out of the hall without a backwards glance.

"Lovely," Daphne whispered under her breath, "Just lovely."

"You can do better than Blaise, love." I reassured her, "He's a pig. You know that."

"I know. I just thought he'd change eventually." She spared Tracy another glance before sighing, "I'm going to grab a couple things from my room before class. Save me a seat, okay?"

I gave her a small smile, "Of course."

As Daphne walked out the doors of the Great Hall, she almost ran into Granger, who was on her way in. Instead of simply brushing past each other, as you'd expect of the two people who never previously talked to one another, they engaged in a conversation. I couldn't hear what they were saying from my spot beside Theo at the Slytherin table, but it looked friendly and not at all forced, as I'd expect. Granger's laugh filled the air, which confused me further. Since when were Granger and Daphne friends? And, also, I'd just failed to reach my goal.

I found myself in the middle of Blaise and Daphne in the Great Hall for counseling. Blaise was pretending like nothing happened and was making jokes left and right, making Theo laugh outrageously. Daphne, on the other hand, was silent, deathly silent. I kept glancing back and forth between her and Blaise, not quite sure what to say. Daphne must have felt my unease, because she placed her hand on mine and gave me a half-hearted grin.

"So," I began, gathering all of their attention, "Did any of you go yesterday?"

"I did," Theo said, "Mine was about my mum."

Theo's mother died when he was relatively young, like six or seven years old. Ever since, his father was a complete monster. Without his mother around, Nott Senior took out all of his anger on Theo. He didn't talk about it much, but I know it really affected him. I've never seen any more relieved than Theo when his father got the Kiss after the war.

"I went, as well." Daphne spoke up, "Mine was about Stori and my parents before shit hit the fan."

Astoria, Daphne's sister, is two years younger than us, and bitchy as hell. Daphne thinks she uses her attitude to mask how she really feels about her parents favoring Daphne. Daphne earns better marks, has better Pureblood manners, and doesn't try to sleep with every guy in Europe. Astoria's resentment towards her sister really began flourishing when Daphne started dating Blaise, Astoria's lifetime crush. Since then, things have been more than icy amongst all of the Greengrasses.

"I haven't gone yet." Blaise said somewhat nervously. "I'm trying to go second-to-last, so I can put it off for as long as possible without being the last memory."

"Why not just be last?" Theo asked.

"Because everyone remembers the last one, Nott." Daphne sighed, "And you know how much Blaise _hates_ to be remembered."

"Ha. Ha." Blaise responded dryly.

"Good afternoon, everyone!" Professor Franklin's cheery voice rang throughout the hall, "Today is the last day for memories! Are there any volunteers for first?"

"Blaise would like to go first, Professor. He hasn't stopped talking about his memory all morning." I called out, irritated with Blaise at the moment.

I could feel Blaise's eyes glaring into the side of my head and felt him punch me in the shoulder before he walked up to the front of the class.

"Ready, Mr. Zabini?" Professor Franklin asked.

"It's now or never."

We all drank from the vials and were transported to…

Malfoy Manor.

Better yet, we were in my room of Malfoy Manor.

"Drake, I'm going insane!" Blaise, at age fifteen, raved as he ran his fingers through his hair.

There I was sitting on my bed with a snitch in hand, tossing it up and down, looking amused.

"What's wrong, mate?"

"My love life is what's wrong. I'm so fucked."

"Your love life?" Younger me snorted. "What love life?"

"Daph and I have been getting dinner together lately."

Younger me raised an eyebrow quizzically, "Okay? Daph and I get dinner together all the time. You don't see me freaking out about it."

Blaise huffed loudly, "No, Draco, you don't understand. You and Daphne are just friends, right?"

"Correct."

"Okay, well I don't think it's normal to want to snog the hell out of friends. Do you?"

"Woah, Blaise. This is moving a little bit too fast for me." Younger me joked and moved back from Blaise.

"Draco, stop! This is serious! I think I'm in love with Daphne!" Blaise shouted at the top of his lungs.

My bedroom door swung open. There stood Daphne with a watery smile.

"Have long have you been standing out there?" Blaise asked worriedly.

"Long enough to know that you're not making moves on Draco. And you want to snog the hell out of me." She laughed, ignoring the obvious elephant in the room.

"And what else, Daph?" Blaise asked, slowly moving towards her. In the background, younger me slyly creeped towards the closet and hide inside of it, not wanting to intrude on the moment.

"Um, I must've missed the rest of the conversation." She looked down at her feet with a forced chuckle.

"Daphne, look at me." Blaise whispered and placed a hand under her chin. "I'm in love with you."

"Oh, so you don't 'think' so anymore?" She retorted with an amused look.

Blaise threw his head back and let out a laugh, "Kiss me, Greengrass."

"Will do, Zabini."

They shared a heated snog, prompting a loud cough from the closet.

"By the way, Zabini," Daphne said after the pair broke apart, "I _know_ I love you."

The memory faded away, leaving a shy looking Blaise at the front of the classroom.

I quickly checked on Daphne who was trying to hold back tears. Her fists were clenched on her lap and she looked ready to sprint out of the room at any given moment.

"Go ahead and explain, Mr. Zabini." Professor Franklin ushered Blaise to speak after he failed to do so on his own.

"This memory signifies happiness for me, because it's the first time anyone ever told me they loved me." He spoke, staring directly at Daphne.

That was all it took for Daphne to launch out of her chair, grab her bag, and race out of the hall.

As if that whole predicament wasn't surprising enough, Granger and She-Weasley ran out after her.

Blaise slowly made his way back to his seat, staring at the doors as he did, "Now you guys see why I didn't want to do this."


End file.
